Hyoo Mun
by Trefoil-underscore
Summary: Since the world was generated (a few seconds ago) villagers have dwelt peacefully in Sunswatch. Then, a strange, flat-headed, noseless, arm-flailing creature sprints into the village and begins doing strange things with blocks. What is this curious beast, and what does it want with the citizens of Sunswatch?


**A/N: This is not related to Mythos in any way. It's inspired by my recent in-game experiences: I started up a new world late on a Friday night, naming it Tired, and spawned near the largest village I'd ever seen.**

They say that the world was created from Wuns and Zeroz by Lord Notch, who ordered them into lines and blocks and wove a grid of sky, cloud and water, stably founded on the bedrock and wrapped in the sparkling boundless Nothing that is the Void. Each creature has and knows its place on the Overworld. This village, Sunswatch, is mine.

There is, however, talk of Wanderers, beings without a place. They travel the Overworld forever, like lost spirits, stopping briefly here or there, to eat or rest. They are skilled builders and can manipulate the terrain at will. Some have seen them shape rock with their bare hanz. (These hanz are the appendages usually located at the ends of the Wanderer's arms, which are long and thin. Wanderers have a tendency to flail them about constantly in a supremely undignified manner.) Some say that in their own tongue the creatures are called Hyoo Mun, but this I cannot verify. I had never encountered a Wanderer until the day our narrative begins.

The day was as beautiful as it ought to be. Across the river, the savanna baked hot and dry under the sun, and far away the desert was a tranquil white gleam. Closer by, the seven cows and four horses whose places are the outskirt of Sunswatch meandered through the wildflowers and tall grass. The citizens of Sunswatch traded contentedly at a slow pace, as was their wont. One of our two farmers stared at a block of potato greens, waiting for it to grow so that he could harvest the potatoes.

The Wanderer, we believe, appeared from somewhere over the river, in the Savannah. The creatures move quickly, so before we knew it was there, it was upon us.

It ran into town as if pursued by some invisible beast and circled the buildings, wide-eyed, taking in our whole settlement. I caught only a glimpse of it as it hurtled past. It entered the church, startling Hon. Brrrrb, our priest, and climbed onto the roof, where it placed several torches. It then took a more leisurely tour of the village, placing more torches on the insides and outsides of houses, as well as around the garden plots and on the ground. The enigma of item storing is one which has not yet been solved, but Wanderers all seem able to make items disappear into thin air, calling them back into being when needed. This one, however, did something odd. It ran out of torches. It waved an empty han at the corner of the village well, then paused, appearing somewhat confused. I was standing on the path nearby, and finally had a chance to examine the creature.

The Wanderer is shorter and smaller than one of our own kind, and besides the hanz and flailing arms which I have mentioned, has a much flatter head and no nose at all. How they breathe is questionable, and scientists have postulated that this sad lack is what makes their voices so strangely like the chirping of birds. This one wore a short jacket that left its trousers, which were a dull blue, uncovered, and which had a flap at the top which could be used to cover the head and neck. Darker grey wraps of some sort partly covered the hanz, primarily the parts used for striking, where a few spars of the material known as dymund in their vulgar tongue and harlfrsprppfdgsd in our own speech were lodged, perhaps to augment its punching power. Its skin was light and peachy, and it had a superfluity of brown-gold fur on the top of its head, spilling out of one side of the jacket head flap. Its eyes were large and grey-blue-green. It stared at me.  
"Hello, Wanderer," I said, "and welcome."

It ran right up to me and stared at me for several ticks, then sprinted away. It did not, at least, appear hostile, as some Wanderers are. I expected, given its hectic behavior thus far, that this was the last I'd see of it; that it would sprint away as it had come. I was very wrong.


End file.
